be very much objection to that. Then, when
he comes, we might play up and take an interest and ask for more
instruction, and in that way hold the matter over for a day or two.
Don't you think that would be the best game?"

"You will do as you like," said Mansoor. "I have told you once for ever
what I think. If you wish that I speak to the Moolah, I will do so.
It is the fat, little man with the grey beard, upon the brown camel in
front there. I may tell you that he has a name among them for converting
the infidel, and he has a great pride in it, so that he would certainly
prefer that you were not injured if he thought that he might bring you
into Islam."

"Tell him that our minds are open then," said the Colonel. "I don't
suppose the _padre_ would have gone so far, but now that he is dead I
think we may stretch a point. You go to him, Mansoor, and if you work it
well we will agree to forget what is past. By the way, has Tippy Tilly
said anything?"

"No, sir. He has kept his men together, but he does not understand yet
how he can help you."

"Neither do I. Well, you go to the Moolah, and I'll tell the others what
we have agreed."

The prisoners all acquiesced in the Colonel's plan, with the exception
of the old New England lady, who absolutely refused even to show any
interest in the Mohammedan creed. "I guess I am too old to bow the knee
to Baal," she said. The most that she would concede was that she would
not openly interfere with anything which her companions might say or do.

"And who is to argue with the priest?" asked Fardet, as they all rode
together, talking the matter over. "It is very important that it should
be done in a natural way, for if he thought that we were only trying to
gain time he would refuse to have any more to say to us."

"I think Cochrane should do it, as the proposal is his," said Belmont.

"Pardon me!" cried the Frenchman. "I will not say a word against our
friend the Colonel, but it is not possible that a man should be fitted
for everything. It will all come to nothing if he attempts it. The
priest will see through the Colonel."

"Will he?" said the Colonel, with dignity.

"Yes, my friend, he will, for like most of your countrymen, you are very
wanting in sympathy for the ideas of other people, and it is the great
fault which I find with you as a nation."

"Oh, drop the politics!" cried Belmont, impatiently.

"I do not talk politics. What I say is very practical. How can Colonel
Cochrane pretend to this priest that he is really interested in his
religion when, in effect, there is no religion in the world to him
outside some little church in which he has been born and bred? I
will say this for the Colonel, that I do not believe he is at all a
hypocrite, and I am sure that he could not act well enough to deceive
such a man as this priest."

The Colonel sat with a very stiff back and the blank face of a man who
is not quite sure whether he is being complimented or insulted.

"You can do the talking yourself if you like," said he at last. "I
should be very glad to be relieved of it."

"I think that I am best fitted for it, since I am equally interested in
all creeds. When I ask for information, it is because in verity I desire
it, and not because I am playing a part."

"I certainly think that it would be much better if Monsieur Fardet would
undertake it," said Mrs. Belmont, with decision, and so the matter was
arranged.

The sun was now high, and it shone with dazzling brightness upon the
bleached bones which lay upon the road. Again the torture of thirst
fell upon the little group of survivors, and again, as they rode
with withered tongues and crusted lips, a vision of the saloon of the
_Korosko_ danced like a mirage before their eyes, and they saw the white
napery, the wine-cards by the places, the long necks of the bottles,
the siphons upon the sideboard. Sadie, who had borne up so well, became
suddenly hysterical, and